


Kinktober: Praise Kink?

by moonmoth (greyvvardenfell)



Series: Kinktober 2019 [18]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Blindfolds, Body Dysphoria, Body Worship, Bondage, F/M, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:20:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23585251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyvvardenfell/pseuds/moonmoth
Summary: Reyja sets out to help Julian with his body image issues.
Relationships: Apprentice/Julian Devorak, Julian Devorak/Original Character(s)
Series: Kinktober 2019 [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1697680
Kudos: 30





	Kinktober: Praise Kink?

“Is anything too tight, Juley?”

Julian has to work hard to find the words for me, wetting his lips and taking several deep, measured breaths before speaking. “I-it’s all perfect, love. Heavenly.”

I give his blindfold a perfunctory tug anyway, as an excuse to scratch lightly at his scalp while I’m there. He arches into my touch as much as his extensive ropework will allow and hums happily before settling back into the mindlessness of subspace, waiting for me to direct him.

But his only orders tonight are to sit and listen. His legs are folded and bound to themselves, calf to thigh, keeping him on the bed. I tied his arms too, wrists together, stretched out in front of him with a lattice of red up his forearms. There’s more rope waiting if he won’t keep quiet, but I don’t like to gag him; his beautiful little noises are gifts offered to me in his most vulnerable moments and to stifle them would be a huge loss for us both. However, the first part of my plan for the evening might make him more talkative than usual, and not in a fun way.

“Okay, lovely. I’m going to sit across from you and all you have to do is hear what I say. Do you understand?”

He nods, but the slight flicker of his fingers and twitch of his lips tells me he’s still a little uneasy about this turn of events. I crawl onto the bed with him anyway and arrange myself with my shins touching his knees.

“Good. That’s very good.” I pause to eye his face. My own softens as I take in the smooth line of his jaw, the curve of each brow, the bow of his lips. He didn’t shave this morning, at my request, so dark auburn stubble shades his cheeks and chin and halfway down his throat. Seeing him scruffy like this always sets me aflame, but he never keeps it for long. Too itchy, he says. Oh, well. The man beneath is still my Julian.

Resting a hand on each of his thighs, I draw a deep breath. “So… you’re wonderful at telling me you love me, Juley, but I don’t know how good I am about saying it back, or bringing it up unprompted.”

He opens his mouth, but I cut him off.

“Ah, ah, ah. This is for you, not for me to earn pity points. I will gag you if I have to.” I stretch up to cup his cheek and he nuzzles my palm with a quiet whimper. “I know. I don’t want to, but if that’s what it takes to get you to listen without feeling like you have to jump in and defend me against myself?”

“But—”

“No buts. And no talking. Okay?”

He rocks back and forth, clearly stuck between his desire to obey me and his intrinsic need to speak. But the former wins out and he nods again, biting his lip for comfort.

“Thank you, ‘Bee. Anyway, I just wanted to make an effort to show you, truly, how much I love you. Head to toe.”

I wait with baited breath for him to complain, or safeword out, or make some sort of indication that he won’t be on board with this. But besides the blush that spreads across his cheeks and chest, a mainstay whenever we play, and a tremor that hunches his shoulders, he doesn’t protest.

From the start, I have a plan. I know I want to focus on the things Julian isn’t fond of about himself: his height, his build, his body hair, his nose. It won’t be hard, since I love every bit of him without limit, the same way he takes my perceived flaws and turns them beautiful. Or maybe they always were, like he says, and he just showed me differently. Whatever it is, he deserves the same treatment.

Since my hand is already resting against his face, I might as well start there. The sandpaper roughness of his facial hair scratches at my palm as I rub his cheek, sweeping my thumb across the purple half-circle under his eye that never quite goes away, no matter how much sleep he gets. “You’re so pretty, Juley,” I say softly. “So handsome too. Your cheekbones, your jawline, the shape of your eyes. I know you have no control over those but they suit you so well. And the crown jewel?” I slide my fingertip down the prominent aquiline profile of his gorgeous nose. I can’t resist the urge to boop the tip, too, giggling when he scrunches it up. “The first time I saw you, you were so striking! Even though you, y'know, broke in and knocked a bunch of stuff over and I attacked you. But when I turned the light on and you looked up at me from the floor…” I shake my head at the memory, smiling at the absurdity of the situation. “I was destined to love you from the start, but you really did make it easy.”

He leans into me, releasing a gentle sigh in lieu of agreement. I trace the contours of his nose a bit longer, up and down the bridge and across the little bump of cartilage in the middle that makes it even more appealing. “What happened here? Did you break it?”

He nods again. Curious, I give him the go-ahead to tell me about it.

“Ran into the side of the house chasing Pasha when we were kids,” he says. “Ah, well, she was a kid. I was, erm, seventeen, at the time. It was just before I left Nevivon to study with Nazali. I think I slipped on a patch of ice or some mud and wham! Right into the wall. Quite a lot of blood, as I recall, and one very upset little sister.”

Classic Julian. “Well, it adds to your charm. And your good looks.”

“Oh, darling, you don’t mean—”

“Hey. You told the story. That’s all I said you could do.” I kiss either side of his nose and retreat, trailing my hands down his long neck. He shuts his mouth with an audible click, his sheepishness obvious even through the blindfold.

I tuck my thumbs into the hollows at the base of his throat and follow the swoop of his collarbones out to the ends of his shoulders. When he curls himself around me, lying on our sides, the whole joint rises above mine, and my own shoulders aren’t narrow by any means. He thinks he’s disproportionate, that the width of his upper body isn’t matched by that of his lower. I suppose he’s technically correct, but who said he had to be proportional to be perfect?

“Mmm, Jujubee, you’re so strong,” I croon, squeezing the tops of his arms. He’s carried me up the stairs on a number of occasions, despite me having a good fifty pounds on him. “So nice and broad. I’m proud of you for keeping yourself in fighting shape.”

He mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like “haven’t done anything to be proud of,” but I ignore him. I fully intend on proving him wrong.

“Your body is an amazing thing. You came back to it, back to me, once already.” With his wrists tied, I can’t take his strong, slender hands in mine, but he reaches for me anyway, the veins spiderwebbed across his tendons standing out stark against his pale skin. “Actually, make that twice. The plague would’ve killed you had the Hanged Man not intervened the first time, too.”

Julian frowns and opens his mouth to contradict me yet again, but I place a single finger over his lips and he stifles himself, turning whatever he was about to say into a muffled whine as his tongue emerges to taste my skin. His eagerness makes me smile; I suppose if I let him suck on my fingers while I talk, he wouldn’t have it in him to complain. But he wouldn’t be listening to me either, so, reluctantly, I take my hand back.

“You’re not being very good tonight, are you?” I reprimand gently. “I know this isn’t your favorite thing, but please, Julian.” He startles at the use of his name; normally, it’s pet names from start to finish when we play. I need him to know how much this means to me, though. “Please take this seriously.” I untie his blindfold and let it fall into his lap. He blinks solemnly at me and shifts under my gaze until he looks down at his bound legs with a sigh.

“I’m sorry, Reyja. I— this— I’m not good at this. At, erm. At being praised.” He clears his throat and glances at me again. “It’s hard enough to accept gratitude for the things I’ve done, but simply being who I am and expecting people to grovel at my feet as I pass?” The curl of his lip underscores the pure revulsion in his words as he sneers. “I can’t do that.”

I stare at him, numb, as my heart breaks. “Is that what this feels like?” I ask quietly, when I have enough of a handle on myself again. “Like I’m grovelling at your feet?”

He winces. “Oh, darling, that isn’t what I meant. No! I mean, not, ah, not entirely. It’s just that, well, I know you would never lie to me, but…”

“But you think I’m lying to you.”

His laughter holds more pain than mirth. “You don’t know what it sounds like in my head, my dear, and thank god you don’t. I wouldn’t subject anyone to these demons, especially not you.”

I sigh. I swallow. I summon a spell to my hands and slide the air-thin blade I conjure between his skin and the ropes; untying him would take too long. He doesn’t even know what I’m doing until his bonds loosen and fall away.

“You’re right,” I tell him. “I don’t know what it’s like in your head, but I do know what it’s like in mine. Hating everything you see in the mirror. Trying so, so hard to find something, anything, worth the energy it would take to maintain. Wondering how anyone can even bear to look at you, let alone speak to you or tolerate you long enough to get to know you. You’ve helped me make some of those voices shut the hell up for once, Julian. I want to be able to do the same for you.” I shake my head sadly and rub the marks that the ropes bit into his calves. “I don’t think the same things will work, though. I needed you to cuddle me and reassure me and, and do all the things you’re so good at doing… I didn’t even have to tell you that, you just knew. But I don’t know how to help you with this. I should be the one apologizing, not you.”

“Love…” He unfolds himself and scoots towards me, pulling me against him. I resist only for a moment before melting into his embrace, his skin cool against my forehead now that his flush has faded. He lines the side of my neck with tender kisses, then settles into me. “Love, _I_ don’t even know how to help me. It isn’t fair to take that responsibility on yourself.”

“I want to, though,” I insist. “You deserve to be as happy in your own skin as you’ve made me feel in mine.”

“I live to make you happy, darling,” he says, holding me tighter. “Loving you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Then you understand! I’m so in love with you, Juley.” I move back, taking his face in my hands and looking directly into his mismatched eyes. “I love you so fucking much. We’re better together, always. I loved you before I met you and I love you now—”

He joins me in reciting the last part of our wedding vow. “—and I’ll love you tomorrow, too. Oh, Reyja…” His soft lips meet mine, the pleasant scratch of his stubble against my cheeks and chin making me lean into him and throw my arms around his neck. When we break apart, I’m nearly sitting in his lap, his legs wrapped around my back and my bare chest pressed against his. I can’t help but chuckle; this is exactly where I had planned to end up when we started this scene, though the detours we took to get here were unexpected to say the least.

“What’s causing such a lovely sound, my dear?” Julian murmurs, his fingers combing through my hair.

“Just thinking. If we’d kept going, I was going to compliment your legs and chest specifically, and here I am, sandwiched between them.”

He pauses for a long moment, eyes darting between mine while he chews on his lip before he lets out his breath and bends down for another kiss. “If, ah, if you’d like, we could… we could try it again. I’ll be good this time, about everything. I promise. And, mmm, I think it might help if I can, well, if we can stay like this.” He draws his touch along my spine and drops his voice to a whisper as he presses his forehead against mine. “I always do better with you in my arms.”

“Funny.” I shift so I can wrap my legs around him too, crossing my ankles over the patch of hair on his lower back. “I feel exactly the same way.”


End file.
